


Latch

by LunarAsylum



Series: Acoustic [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, Family Drama, First Tattoo experience., Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Long-Term Relationship(s), Love, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Moving In Together, Past Castiel/Dean Winchester, Tattooed Castiel, Unrequited Love, Weddings, broken relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:12:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarAsylum/pseuds/LunarAsylum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Castiel finally decided to give each other a try. It's perfect up until the point that a letter arrives in the mail for Sam, but not for Castiel. A invitation to Dean's wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel fic to In the Lonely Hour. It nearly directly follows the story with little gap in between. It can be a stand alone, but I recommend reading In the Lonely Hour as well. =)

They had been talking via Facebook for well over a year, and it had become almost ritualistic for them. Every night, at the nearly the exact same time, they were on Facebook chat, talking about their days and little things that they didn't already know about each other. On the weekends, they deviated, sometimes making phone calls randomly throughout the day, or skyping in the evening for an hour or two.

 

Now that he thought about it, there had been few days that they had gone without talking. To say they had bonded the night of his high school reunion was an understatement. Cas could openly admit that he feel attraction and attachment to the younger Winchester, but he doubted he would ever say anything. They lived too far apart, with Sam in Illinois and himself in Oregon.

 

He had considered presenting his idea of possibly moving back to Illinois, but when they talked about work, Sam seemed so thoroughly amazed and interested in what he did, he felt that leaving the shop would only upset the younger man. It made him feel self-conscious to know that he was feeling this way towards Sam. There was little doubt in his mind that the other returned his feelings, because no one in their right mind would choose to speak to him nearly every day.

 

It didn't lessen the fact that he felt like he didn't deserve it. There was still a part of him that had been convinced it was going to go poorly, because of himself. That was what kept him held back against the wall, his palms like suction cups, refusing to let him press forward in his life.

 

His computer dinged, alerting him to a message on Facebook. A smile overtook his features, drowning out anything that had been there before as he pulling his laptop up.

 

 

 

Cas: 'Hey'

 

Sam: 'How was your day? :)'

 

Cas: 'It was good. Pretty uneventful. Yours?'

 

Sam: 'Same old, same old. Getting ready to wrap up a massive case, actually. So next week, I might not be on so much, in preparation for that and a business trip I'm taking.'

 

Cas: 'Oh. You're taking a business trip?'

 

Sam: 'Yeah. I'm kind of looking forward to it. Break away from the monotony of Illinois for a bit.'

 

Cas: 'I assume you won't be able to be on much during your trip, then?'

 

Sam: 'No, but I can call more. We'll be able to talk quite a bit, if you'd like.'

 

Cas: 'I don't want to take up all your time if you're trying to have a vacation outside of work.'

 

Sam: 'Pfft. Please. Don't make it sound like talking to you is a chore, Cas. I enjoy having these talks with you every day.'

 

Sam: 'It's something I look forward to.'

 

Cas: '*////*'

 

Sam: 'Did that really make you blush?'

 

Cas: 'Maybe.'

 

Sam: 'Lol. So how many clients did you get in today?'

 

Cas: 'I had about ten people come in today for work. Had a couple of guys call in for touch ups or finishes on pieces.'

 

Sam: 'Anything interesting?'

 

Cas: 'No. Nothing original. Everyone that came in picked something off the wall. It's not that I mind it, but it just feels so empty to me. I couldn't just pick something for looks.'

 

Sam: 'I understand that. I've still been debating what I could even get for a tattoo. I don't know what I like.'

 

Cas: '-laughs- You gotta find something that changed your life, that's already stuck with you. You were always good with words, so instead of drawing a picture, describe that moment. Write it out, and maybe I could sketch it up for you.'

 

Sam: 'You'd do that for me?'

 

Sam: 'Has anyone ever told you you're a genius?'

 

Cas: 'No. But they've told me I'm good with my hands. Of course I'd do that for you. I can't imagine not being the person that gets to design your tattoo. Frankly, I'd be a little offended.'

 

Sam: 'Really?'

 

Cas: 'I told you to come get your first tattoo from me. I meant it.'

 

Sam: ':) I don't know what I'd do without you.'

 

Cas: 'I could imagine a few things.'

 

Sam: 'Like what?'

 

Cas: 'For one, you'd be a boring lawyer with absolutely no chance of getting a tattoo.'

 

Sam: 'That seems very situational.'

 

Cas: 'Seeing as I'm part of that situation, I'm biased.'

 

Sam: 'Lol. True.'

 

The conversation meandered until Sam said he had things to take care of, which he always did. They bid their goodbyes and that was the last he heard from Sam on Facebook for a while. He'd receive intermittent texts throughout the week, just saying 'hi' and asking how he was doing. It felt odd to have his ritual disturbed like this.

 

He heard bits and pieces about how the case was going, and he got a phone call on the weekend with a very tired sounding Sam elated that they were looking to win their suit. Even with all that interaction, he felt the week dredge on, attempting to drown him in the murky waters of his lonliness. On Sunday, and Monday, however, he heard nothing from Sam.

 

Assuming it was cause of his case and then the business trip, he tried to force himself to have happy thoughts about it. They weren't even dating, and here he was, wondering if he'd somehow damaged his friendship with Sam. The last thing he'd received from the Winchester was an email titled 'Life Changing Moment'. He hadn't understood the purpose of that until he'd opened it and read it through:

 

'Art is a form that appeals to me in many ways. I don't think I've ever felt so inspired or moved by art quite like this moment. The lines carved out love and care, protecting and caressing gentle shades of agony and stress. It seemed so real to me, yet I knew it was simply two-dimensional. I was allowed the honor of stroking each line as if I were the ones to make them, tracing each invisible movement.

 

My thumbs took in the emotion that took the color, the rage that broke it, dividing it from the rest. It was a tattoo that made me feel this way. Two arms that gave me a gift when they thought they were the ones receiving. Yet, I've never felt more loved with a back turned to me. It felt subtle, yet bold, the message emblazoned on tanned skin on like words on a page.

 

Permission was given and taken, my hands looking for reprieve from their day to day life in the punctures of skin, and the invasion of ink. It was solid, black and white, yet colors bled into my vision like the night sky. I felt whole and broken, his pain encompassing mine, and soothing me in a way I've never felt before. It took me time to realize what it was I was really feeling.

 

Love. The perfect balance of pain and happiness. I loved him that night, and I would hope to think he loved me.'

 

It made his heart beat wildly to read the inner most thoughts of the Winchester, and even though it had been nearly one in the morning, he had thrown himself out of bed, and taken himself to his studio to draw. Inspiration coursed through his veins as he etched out line after line, his pencil never faltering in his design.

 

Smiling widely, he moved over to the scanner, placing the image face down and returning to his desk where his computer was. Once the image was staring him back from the screen, he began to edit it with vivid color for one half, the other remaining the gray scale he'd worked on with the other half.

 

Two halves of a whole danced in front of him as he completed his work, and by three, he was emailing the final piece to Sam with a note, saying this was what he had conceptualized and that he hoped the Winchester loved it. That was when he'd heard nothing back.

 

On Monday, he sat at his work station, mindlessly sketched on paper as an exercise to wait for his next client who was due in fifteen minutes. The bell jangled loudly throughout the shop, and their secretary greeted the client. His ears barely picked up the conversation, but something sounded familiar about it.

 

“Yes, he's here today,” he heard Hannah say, and he looked up, slightly interested in who was being asked for. His stomach nearly dropped through the floor when he saw Sam standing there, a simple white t-shirt clinging to his upper body as loose jeans draped the lower half.

 

“Sam?” he asked, getting off the stool and heading towards the front of the shop. “What're you doing here, I thought you had a business trip.”

 

“This is my business trip, of sorts,” the Winchester said, grinning ear to ear. “I got your email, by the way. Sorry that I didn't respond. I was busy packing for the trip and everything, and then I had to fly out early this morning.”

 

“No, no, it's all right. I'd ask what you're doing here, but it's kind of obvious,” he said, blinking at the piece of paper held in Sam's hands. “I've actually got a client in about ten minutes, but she should take more than two hours, if you're able to wait?”

 

“Yeah, no totally. Can I leave this here? So I don't lose it?” he said, his smile sheepish as he offered the paper to Cas. The older man smiled and took it, looking down at the design before looking back up at Sam. “I'd recommend coming back in about an hour and 45 minutes. Just to make sure no one else tries to nab your spot. It's first come first serve for non-appointments, and I must oblige, no matter how much I'd like to make the exception.”

 

Sam laughed at that, and nodded, his body tense and he seemed to hesitate for a moment, before turning away. “I'll be back soon!”

 

Cas stared off after him, watching as he left before Hannah interjected herself into his thoughts.

 

“Who was that sexy beast?” she asked, her lip ring pressing into her lips as she licked them.

 

“That was a friend of mine from Illinois. Who swore to me he had a business trip, but be damned if this is a business trip,” he said, fingers still clenching the piece of paper.

 

“Well, personal business counts as a business trip, Cassy. He came all this way just to get a tattoo from you? That boy must love you,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “What's his name?”

 

“Sam. Sam Winchester,” he said, and a gasp emitted from her.

 

“No way! Like that boy's brother you've talked about? Dude, you're after his _brother?!_ ”

 

“I'm not _after_ him, Hannah. I'm desperately wishing he feels the same way,” he admitted, looking down at the image again. “I designed this for him, after he sent me something. This is personal for both of us.”

 

“Cassy, come on! You can't tell me you don't know that he loves you, too,” she said, spinning her chair wildly, her voice coming and going as she spun. “Put the facts together. He tells you it's a business trip, so he wants to surprise you by showing up here, to get a tattoo from you. His first probably, if you've designed it for him. On top of that, he's willing to put the design you intimately made for him on his body forever.”

 

“It doesn't necessarily mean he loves me, Hannah. I've known Sam since he was around ten years old. He's always been that kid that puts people before him, especially if he thinks they're hurt.”

 

“And he thinks you're hurt, doesn't he? Castiel, look at me.”

 

The use of his full name by her caught him off guard, granting her request.

 

“That boy fucking loves you, okay? I don't know the extent of it, but before you started talking about him all you did was come to work quietly, immerse yourself in your art, and occasionally tell me about this dickhead Dean,” she said, stopping him as he opened his mouth to speak. “I know you, Cas, and I know you love him. It's more than apparent, and I also know the advice you give to people contemplating their first tattoo. You want it to have meaning.

 

“You drew that tattoo, which he showed me, and you're in it. You're all over that tattoo, and I feel assured he knows it, so he's having you put yourself into his body. Don't take that as lightly as you seem to be. Just because you know him, doesn't mean you can read him as well as I can. Sometimes the objective is better than the subjective.”

 

He released a long sigh, his eyes filled with doubt and love as he looked over her.

 

“I have no idea what I'd do without you,” he said, as he returned to his station, carefully placing the image in one of his drawers.

 

“I think you'd remain single by choice, and mope to someone else about it forever,” she said, grinning widely before turning as the bell jingled. It was his client, who was starting on a sleeve tattoo. They were some of his favorite pieces to do, because it was long, but consuming. In an odd situation, the girl had decided to do shorter sessions, meaning he had to work somewhat faster, and ultimately, longer on the piece.

 

Greeting her, they sat down as he prepared the stencil, making small talk as he began to apply it. It all went by quickly in his anticipation for Sam to return so that he could go through this with the one person he wanted to. Two hours was gone in an instant, and he had wrapped her upper arm, telling her the standard procedure as always, before telling her he'd see her again in two weeks.

 

Smiling, he looked over to see Sam sitting on the bench, completely immersed in a magazine about tattoos.

 

“Sam?” he asked, still smiling when the other looked up, a little flustered at having been so caught up.

 

“Hey,” he said, returning the smile as he lead the Winchester back to his station.

 

“Hey,” Cas replied, his hand pulling open the drawer and pulling out the image. “Give me a couple of minutes to scan this in. Did you have an idea of where you wanted it, and did you want to keep it this size?”

 

“I don't know,” Sam said. “I kept thinking about it, but all I can think of is the back. That's the only place I think it'd look good.”

 

“Right in between your shoulder blades,” Cas said, thinking about it. “I'll blow it up just a little. This'll take a while, you know. About four hours, so you've eaten, right?”

 

“Yeah, I had lunch before I came in. I actually researched what you should do before getting a tattoo,” he said sheepishly, earning a grin from Cas.

 

“Good, I'll be right back,” he said, wandering off to the back of the shop to print out the stencil. Sam took this time to take in his surroundings, looking at the wall which was filled with different artworks that Cas had seemed to have made.

 

They were different styles, one done in water color of a beach view of the sunset. It was amazing, the vivid color and how it felt real. He never understood how someone could create such a stunning visual like that, and it made him smile. The rest of the area was pretty clean and stark, a large black and red metal cabinet decorated with stickers of other tattoo companies logos as well as their own. Inks were placed in gradient colors on the lit up counter beside it, the rest of his supplies in jars, labeled and impeccably organized.

 

“Alrighty, you can go ahead and take off your shirt. At least Gabe isn't here today, so you won't be mauled,” Cas said teasingly, earning a chuckle as the Winchester peeled his shirt with ease. “Go ahead and turn around for me.”

 

Sam complied, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden as his bare back faced Cas. A cool substance was suddenly smeared between his shoulder blades, shocking the hairs on his body. He felt a piece of paper being applied against his skin, gentle, yet firm fingers, smoothing it out, urging him to relax.

 

The feel of the stencil peeling away from his skin was odd, almost like a fake tattoo. Once the paper was gone, he was handed a mirror, and told to look at the placement.

 

“Is that good?” he was asked, to which he nodded and smiled, marveling at how it seemed to be nestled right between his shoulder blades.

 

“It's perfect,” he said, looking over at Cas who smiled and nodded. “Good. The coloring was accurate to what you wanted, yes?”

 

“Maybe you could make the blue just a little lighter?” he asked, receiving a nod before he was told to lie face down on the platform.

 

“Alright, so just to be clear about this, you can breathe while I do this, in fact, I recommend it. It'll ease the pain, especially since this is on your spine. Don't move when you do breathe, so make it slow even breaths, and make sure you're comfortable now. If you need me to stop or need to take a break, just let me know, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Sam said, his reply a little muffled by the fact that his face was smooshed against the bed.

 

“Okay,” Cas said, as he slapped on new gloves, his hands and feet working together to make sure his machine was where he wanted it. The vibration of the needle hummed around them, engulfing him in the feeling he loved. It allowed him to remain unfazed by the fact that he was half draped over Sam, his stool elevated to its highest, the needle prepped with ink.

 

A hiss greeted him as the needle made contact, buzzing brightly as he slowly traced the first line. His hand was steady, his eyes locked onto the image as he pulled away, giving him a moment before returning. They were silent for some time, just drenched in the intimacy this tattoo was providing them. The thrumming of the tattoo machine was their only communication, pauses to wipe away excess ink and blood being their only stark return to reality.

 

“That was a very beautiful description you wrote,” Cas murmured, after finishing the outline of the first half. Only half an hour had passed, showing him just how much he had been focused on the tattoo.

 

“Your visualization of it was just as equally beautiful, obviously,” Sam replied, his words mumbled, and slightly pained.

 

“I feel I barely did it justice,” he said, changing up the ink and the needle to do the outline for the second half.

 

“Well, it was about you, so that's a pretty inconceivable notion,” the Winchester spoke, giving him a moment for pause. His heart beat had skipped at his forwardness, a hesitant smile forming on his lips as he deftly changed out the needle.

 

“Flattery will only get you so far,” Cas replied after a few moments, focusing on the needle so he didn't accidentally stab himself. Once he had pressed the pedal a few times, pleased with the change, he focused on the navy blue ink.

 

“How far will it—“ Sam's breath hitched as the needle made contact with him, initially shocking him. “Will it get me?”

 

“That depends,” Cas said, grinning to himself now that Sam had no chance of seeing him. The buzzing was starting to drown him out again, but the other man's voice always brought him back down to Earth.

 

“On what?”

 

“I have no idea. I'm horrible at flirting,” he said, releasing the machine as he earned a chuckle.

 

“I could attest otherwise,” Sam said, before they fell back into the silence that had taken them before. After he had finished all the outlining, he told Sam to take a break, giving himself one as well. They were about an hour and a half in, and he knew that he couldn't go another two and a half hours without a break, as his hand was starting to cramp.

 

The Winchester had taken the liberty of grabbing the mirror, peering at the outline over his shoulder.

 

“Holy shit, Cas, this is amazing,” he said, black and blue lines glaring at him from inflamed skin.

 

“It'll look better when it's filled,” he said, as the man returned to sit in front of him. Cas could see Hannah staring at them from her desk, making him want to throw something at her, but he objected to himself, saying it wasn't worth his while. “Are you feeling okay?”

 

“Yeah. I'm not lightheaded or anything,” he said, offering a smile.

 

“Good. You should drink something to keep that up, because we're hardly done,” he said, urging the Winchester to their vending machine. Small talk floated between them until they were back on the table, Cas' hand working diligently to finish the tattoo in a timely manner. Three hours later, he declared himself done, the brunette groggy with pain as he pushed himself away from the table.

 

“Take a look,” he said, his heart swelling with pride and love as he offered Sam the mirror. Hazel eyes locked onto the artwork that was on his back, nearly taking his breath away.

 

Two dragons, tails intertwined as their claws dug gently into a yin-yang symbol. The gray one had an easiness to himself, while the blue seemed to exert himself and stretch to meet the other, their snouts just touching above the symbol.

 

“This is stunning,” he said, his eyes tracing over the wings, which had their own characteristic, defining each dragon as their own being, despite existing in harmony with the other.

 

“Okay, turn around,” he said, and Sam complied. Making sure it was adequately cleaned, he placed a bandage over it, taping all the sides down. “Even though we'll probably be seeing each other tonight, I'm giving you instructions.”

 

He backed away, moving to one of the drawers on his cabinet to pull out an information sheet.

 

“This is your guide to avoid infection. Make sure you wash it several times a day in warm water, not cold or hot, and keep it moisturized with a scentless lotion. Don't scratch it, if it itches, lightly pat it, but picking at it will make it scab or heal incorrectly. I know it's not necessarily in a good place to scratch it, but I'm telling you anyway. Don't soak it, don't let it stay in direct sunlight too long. Understood?”

 

“Yeah, and was that your way of asking me to dinner?” Sam asked as he pulled his shirt back on, wincing as it pressed against the bandage.

 

“Perhaps,” he said, chuckling as looked at Sam. “What hotel are you staying at?”

 

“Hotel Modera,” Sam replied, which Cas noticed quirked an eyebrow on Hannah's face.

 

“I'll call you later. Go ahead and fill out the paperwork with Hannah, please. I kind of ignored protocol on this,” he said, giving him a small smile.

 

“Right,” Sam said, smiling himself before doing as he was told. Filling out the paper quickly, he let Hannah scan his ID, before sliding her the forms with two one hundred dollar bills on it. “Give it to him for me, would you? He wouldn't accept payment before, but he deserves to be paid.”

 

She looked a little flustered at the fact that he was telling her to give it to Cas, but she smiled and nodded nonetheless. He returned her smile before heading out of the shop, leaving it for Cas to close up.

 

“Dude,” she said, turning to him in her chair. “You tatted him for free?”

 

“He's the closest thing I have to a best friend outside of you. It was his first, as well. He helped me a while back, so I felt I owed it to him,” Cas replied as he cleaned up his area.

 

“Well, apparently, he didn't take that as an answer. He just slipped me two hundred bucks to give to you,” she said, a sly smirk on her face as he spun on his heel.

 

“What?” he asked, a frown marring his features.

 

“Oh, come on, Cas. Really? You expected him to not pay you?” Hannah asked, getting out of her chair as she moved to lock the door. Pulling the chain for the open sign, it flipped off and she turned back to Cas. “I've never seen you so smitten, even when you talked about Dean.”

 

“You act like I was smitten with Dean,” he said, pursing his lips as he looked back at her.

 

“You were in love with Dean, and that's a close second,” she said, approaching him. “But this guy, Sam. I can tell he genuinely makes you happy, and frankly, it looks like you make him happy, too.”

 

“Hannah...”

 

“Don't try and play this off, Cas. It's okay to move on and be happy again. I get your hesitance, because I'd probably be the same way if I were in your position, but you gotta let yourself be happy. Charlie keeps telling me that she'll turn into a man and date you if you don't find someone soon. I won't let you steal my girlfriend.”

 

Cas laughed at that, shaking his head as he turned to face her head on.

 

“That's most certainly not my plan. My main concern with even trying to begin a relationship with Sam is that he lives so far away. I'd be willing to move there, because I already know the area well, and it wouldn't be hard for me to find another job there, but...”

 

“But what?”

 

“I just feel like if I do that, and then it goes south... I just can't risk putting my all into something for it to fail again,” Cas muttered, looking down as he inhaled deeply. Hannah's face showed her sympathy as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Cas, listen to me, okay? You gotta try. If you keep living in the fear that something will fail, it most certainly will, because you never gave it a chance. Remember when I started dating Charlie? She lived in Kansas? Every month, she flew up here to see me, put in an extraordinary amount of effort for me, and I felt like I gave her nothing in return.

 

“One night we got into a huge argument over that, and I confessed like I felt I wasn't giving her enough, and she looked me dead in the face and said 'Han, I wouldn't fly all the way to Portland for a weekend if you weren't giving me anything'. To this day, I remember that, and that was five years ago. So if he's willing to put in that amount of effort, just to see you, to be with you, I think you should let him. You're not being selfish, you're being kind and giving. He wants to do it, so let him do it.”

 

“I swear, I think I'd be dead if I hadn't met you,” he muttered, giving her a sad smile.

 

“You'd also be single. Go get your man!” she said, nudging him gently. “I'll finish cleaning the shop, okay?”

 

“You sure?”

 

“To see you finally get laid after God only knows how many years? I think that's enough of a favor to warrant me cleaning for a week,” Hannah said, grinning at him, before giving him a wink.

 

Cas kissed her on the cheek, before departing the shop, heading home to change first. Once he got home, he gave Sam a call. The other answered fairly quickly, making a smile jump to his face as he asked him what time would be a good time to pick him up. Both agreeing that an hour later would be acceptable, Cas hurriedly cleaned and dressed himself, slightly nervous to really take Sam out.

 

He checked himself in the mirror several times, his fingers fixing small pieces of his hair and straightening out the creases in his shirt. There was no real reason for him to be anxious over this, as he and Sam knew each other nearly inside and out, yet there it was, trembling on his hands, and pounding against his heart.

 

Taking a deep long breath, he grabbed his car keys and headed out and down his apartment's stairs. He refused to take the elevator for the purposes of health. He hopped inside his car, and headed off towards the Modera. It didn't take him long, about fifteen minutes from his home, and he parked out front, waiting for Sam to come down.

 

When the Winchester pushed through the clear doors, his jaw was askew, face filled with amazement.

 

“Dude, are you trying to impress me?” he asked, sliding into the red leather seats. “You drive a fucking Stingray.”

 

“Yeah, it took me almost my first two years of apprenticing to save up the money. Fortunately, I had no overage from my loans, since my parents paid them for me, which I greatly owe them, so it made it easy to get approved for this,” he said, smirking over at Sam.

 

“A Stingray. Is this even practical?”

 

“No. It's not supposed to be,” he said, laughing. “I hardly drive anywhere with it. I walk to work, but I figured tonight was a special enough occasion to drive.”

 

“More like you didn't want to walk to the hotel,” Sam said, grinning back at him.

 

“You got me. It's a long walk,” Cas said, still smiling, before he pulled off. The Winchester seemed to still be in awe as they drove around the city, and twenty minutes later, they were pulling into a local restaurant.

 

“Dude, one day, you gotta let me drive,” Sam said as he got out of the car, running his hand over the sleek, bright red exterior. “This is such a smooth ride.”

 

“I'll let you drive after dinner, if you want.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah, seriously. There's a stretch of highway about twenty minutes out where you can hit 80 and not get pulled over,” he said, chuckling as he closed the door, locking his car.

 

“You've driven on it before, then.”

 

“Oh yeah,” he said, grinning widely. “It's an amazing ride.”

 

The entered the restaurant in silence, contented with just being near each other. The hostess, a petite brunette named Meg, showed them to a booth was that fortunately secluded from the rest of the building.

 

“Enjoy your meal,” she said, giving them a knowing smile, before leaving them with their menus.

 

They both took a couple of moments to look over the choices, a waiter coming up and greeting them cheerfully. He took their drink orders, announcing he'd be back momentarily. Sam picked his food first, quietly setting the menu back down on the table as he glanced around the restaurant.

 

It was quaint, with bright décor accentuated by the dark, wood beams that hung low over them. The lampshades were off-white, soft white light allowing them to glow warmly. It was cozy, almost lodge feeling, but not quite as closed off.

 

He only noticed that Cas was staring at him when he turned back. The older man almost instantly looked away, earning a quiet laugh.

 

“So,” he started, beaming at the other man.

 

“What kind of business trip are you on?” Cas asked, turning his attention back to him, just as their waiter appeared with their beverages. Asking if they were ready to order, Sam confirmed they were, and they placed their order with him, watching as he happily stepped away and back towards the kitchen.

 

“Uh, well, that was a bit of a stretch,” Sam said, his lips quirking with the hints of a smile. “I'm not really here on business. I came to see you.”

 

“I'm flattered,” he said earnestly, managing to suppress the blood that wanted to rush to his face.

 

“Well, more than just that really,” the Winchester said, releasing a small sigh. “I've been thinking a lot lately, and it's probably very forward of me.”

 

There was a pause, long enough to let his thoughts run wild and rampant through the plains of his mind. Certain ones tried to possess him, but he shrugged them off, knowing he would soon receive the proper answer from Sam.

 

“I was thinking about moving here, to Portland.”

 

That took him by surprise.

 

“W-what?”

 

“I've been looking at new jobs, and apartments online for a while, and I really just want to break away from Illinois. I'd ultimately like to be closer to you, too,” the younger said, this time earning a blush as Cas looked away.

 

“That is if you don't mind.”

 

“Why would I mind? It's your choice,” he replied, his voice a little distant since he was hiding behind his clasped hands.

 

“Are you actively trying to miss the point?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Sam breathed a laugh at that, leaning forward so that his hands to disentangle Cas' and take them into his own.

 

“Seriously Cas,” he said. “I'd like to be closer to you. I think in some way or another, I've liked you since I was a kid, and when I got to see you again last year... well, it kind of speaks for itself. It really did change my life whether you believe it or not. Not in the major life crisis kind of way, but just subtle things, like looking forward to having you to talk to every night. Knowing that when I got home from a stressful day at the firm, or a bad day in court, you would be there.

 

“It's the little things like that that just made me happier in general, and I'm hoping that you felt the same way.”

 

Cas felt assured that his face was beet red from all the compliments tossed his way. Hannah had been more than right, and it almost made him uneasy that he had been this blind to it all along.

 

He nodded wordlessly, squeezing Sam's hands as his answers. His stomach was turning with anxiety and excitement, he was sure if he could talk. The smile that overtook all of the younger's features was enough to take his breath away, pushing a smile onto his own lips.

 

The rest of the night went in a blur, but there was one thing he was absolutely certain of: they never took that drive on the high way.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“Hey!” he answered the phone, a smile nearly tearing his face in half. “How's everything going?”

 

“Dean helped me pack some last night, and is coming back later today to help me get everything into the truck for them to drive there. I get to take the fast way and fly in,” Sam said, a smile clear in his voice.

 

“What time are you flying out?”

 

“My flight leaves at 5:05 if it's not delayed. I've got two stops, one in Minneapolis, and the other in Salt Lake City, and then I'll be to PDX at 11,” the younger said, his voice wavering with anticipation.

 

“Alright. You just give me a call when you get your baggage and I'll be at the door,” Cas said, smiling to himself. He was excited to finally have Sam where he could see him every day instead of talking online or on Skype.

 

“Yeah, definitely. So how's your day going?”

 

“Slowly. I had an appointment cancel at the last minute, so now I'm waiting for some wild, irresponsible teenagers to come in looking for tattoos, because it's official summer vacation,” he said, earning a laugh from his boyfriend. It had been a couple of months now, since Sam had been there, and to say the least, it had shown him just how boring his life was.

 

“Maybe it'll actually be someone with intelligence.”

 

“Don't demean the generation that follows us, Sam. They're our future.”

 

“You're right. We're going to have a bunch of kids with dumb ass tattoos taking care of us in nursing homes,” Sam said sarcastically, earning a laugh from Cas.

 

“Hey, is that your sexy boy toy?” Sam heard in the background, chuckling. That was Gabe's nickname for him, and while it could grate his nerves, it was funny how much it actually bothered Cas.

 

“He is _not_ my _boy toy_ , Gabe. Fuck off!”

 

“Okay, okay, your fuck buddy!”

 

“I WILL KILL YOU!” Cas shouted half way into the receiver, causing Sam to grimace. “Sorry.”

 

“He just can't accept the fact that we're together, can he?”

 

“I think he thinks he can win you over me,” Cas replied, and there was a small flicker in his voice.

 

“Yeah, right. He's so not sexier than you, and I'm pretty sure his life story would pale in comparison to yours. Because it lacks me.”

 

“You're mighty full of yourself, today, Sam Winchester.”

 

“Only today?”

 

“More so than usual,” Cas said with a laugh. “I gotta go, Babe. Someone's coming in. I might not be bored!”

 

“Bye,” he said into the receiver, and he had a hurried 'good bye' from Cas before the line went dead.

 

*~*~*~*

 

The door of his Corvette opened revealing a very wind-blown Sam who jumped in hurriedly after shoving his bag of clothes in the trunk.

 

“Hey!” he said excitedly, looking tired as he leaned over for a kiss.

 

“Hey,” Cas said, smiling uncontrollably as he returned the kiss. “How was your flight?”

 

“Ugh, long. All my layovers got delayed by some god that apparently hates me, but at least I made it!”

 

The clock read 1:37 in the morning, and Cas looked incredibly tired, but there he was, smiling and happy to pick him up.

 

“That is very true,” Cas said as he pulled off, the engine roaring in front of them.

 

“What time do you have to be to work tomorrow?” Sam asked, feeling guilty for having kept him up so late.

 

“I don't, it's my day off, actually. When do you start the new job?”

 

“In a week, so I have some time to go and look at my apartment choices and figure out which one to go with. My furniture and car won't be here for another three days, so I figured I'd make some calls and set up appointments to view places until my car gets here,” Sam said.

 

“You know I'd be more than willing to drive you around tomorrow. It doesn't bother me,” he said, giving him a small smile.

 

“It's your day off—“

 

“I asked for it off because I knew you were flying in,” he said. “I took it off to spend it with you. I'm not spending it with you if you're on the phone talking to people half the day. We can go look at your apartment choices together.”

 

Sam beamed at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. Words wanted to fall out of his mouth, but he restrained them, not sure if either of them were really ready to go that extra step.

 

“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” the Winchester said, his body thrumming with excitement and elation.

 

“It's not a problem,” Cas said, his eyes focused on the road. “What time did you want to go out tomorrow to start looking?”

 

“Whenever I get up, I guess. It's one of my first days where I can sleep in with absolutely no obligations. I kind of want to waste the morning,” he said, receiving a chuckle in response.

 

“I'll wake you up when I get up then,” the older man said. “So does Dean know, yet?”

 

“About us?”

 

“About anything, Sam.”

 

“Us? No. He just thinks it's a coincidence that my boyfriend lives in the same town you do,” the younger replied, gaining a laugh.

 

“So you told him. How'd he respond?”

 

“Like you expected. He wasn't necessarily fazed by it, but he didn't really understand it either. I don't think he's ever quite contemplated the gender spectrum,” Sam said, laughing to himself. “He told Lisa, by the way.”

 

“Did he?” Cas asked, his voice going a little stony.

 

“Yeah. They're doing well. Lisa kind of already knew, but she'd never wanted to say anything because she didn't want to offend him if she was wrong,” Sam said. “They're all doing well. Ben, too. I think you'd like him.”

 

“Maybe one day,” Cas said, his response a little too short. About a half hour of silence later, they were at the older's apartment, the Corvette parked and alarmed, Cas carrying Sam's luggage for him. This wasn't the first time that the Winchester had been to his apartment, but it would be the first time that he'd actually see more than blurs of the hallway and living room and the inside of his sheets.

 

Unlocking the door, he thrust it open, rolling the suitcase inside as he flipped the light switch.

 

“Welcome back,” he said grinning mischievously as he let the bag come to a stop next to the end table of his couch.

 

Sam took the time to actually take in his surroundings, admiring the décor. The walls were a light steel gray, white moulding framing it neatly. A light blue leather couch, black and gray pillows haphazardly tossed on it. A white rug with alternating blue, black and gray chevrons laid beneath a white coffee table. The TV stand opposite the couch was simple, two sliding glass doors closing off its interior.

 

“Shame I missed this all the last time,” he said, throwing a smile at his boyfriend.

 

“Mhmm, I'm sure,” Cas said, shutting and locking the door behind him.

 

“Seriously though, this is nice. I never would anticipated you being a minimalist decorator,” Sam said, grinning back at him. “The color scheme, however, is perfect.”

 

“Stop analyzing my decorative choices, and come here,” he said, and he was instantly greeted by a warm body as they hugged. It was nice just to be close again, and he had a feeling that the entire week that Sam had off was going to be greatly abused.

 

“I missed you,” Cas murmured against his shoulder, reveling in the closeness of another person. It felt like it had been too long, and that only increased his lonliness.

 

“I missed you, too,” Sam replied, hot breath teasing his hair.

 

“Let's make up for lost time, then?” the older man asked, pulling back with a wicked grin. Coyness danced in the Winchester's eyes as he leaned in to steal a kiss, following the only path he knew in the apartment as they both disappeared into Cas' bedroom.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Two years had passed in unbelievable bliss. Sam had moved in for a few days, to move out to his own place, only to move back in a year later. It was odd, yet welcome to have such an open relationship, and Cas could only say that he was the happiest he'd ever been in his life.

 

A lot had happened between then and now. Dean, miraculously, had created a Facebook account, which he actually used, and then he had proceeded to add Cas as a friend. Sam talked to his brother regularly, but the older Winchester still didn't know who Sam's boyfriend was. The brunette insisted, both to his brother and his boyfriend, that he wanted to protect the privacy of themselves. Dean was less understanding than Cas.

 

Today was a Tuesday like any other Tuesday they'd had, with Sam at his firm's office, while Cas spent a majority of the morning lounging around before he headed to work. The mail, however, had other plans for their, arriving early. Hearing the sound of the mailboxes clattering as the mailman shut them, he waited until silence greeted him. Peering out of the door, he saw the boxes unattended, and he padded over to them quickly, key in hand. Hurriedly, he tore his and Sam's open, grabbing all the mail, a thick envelope attempting to make it difficult.

 

With aggravation, he slammed the box shut, turning the lock and sliding his key free before heading back into his apartment. Flipping through the mail, he saw that the thick envelope was addresses to a 'Mr. Sam Winchester' in loopy, but elegant cursive. His blood ran cold at the idea of what it was, slamming the mail down on the dining table, rushing off to the bedroom to get ready for work.

 

Unfortunately, he could only focus on the singularly addressed envelope waiting for Sam at home. The sound of the needle and the vibration of his machine were the only things to keep him calm throughout the day, allowing him to truly focus on something other than his personal life. The day went by quickly, and he was on his way home before he knew it.

 

Sam always beat him there, typically bearing a good mood to capture him and swallow him up when he arrived. He couldn't look forward to it today though, his fingers tapping agitatedly on the steering wheel of his Corvette. He was slow to make his way inside once he had parked, his feet and heart dragging.

 

Despite everything that had happened between him and Sam the past couple of years, anxiety and what-if's trailed after Dean's name, filling him with hollow self-esteem. Swallowing thickly, he pushed open the door, greeted by the expected grin as his boyfriend raised a white envelope from the coffee table.

 

“Dean's getting married!” the Winchester said excitedly. “Technically, you're invited.”

 

Cas' brows furrowed at that, not quite understand until a 'Mr. Winchester and Guest' was flashed to him from the inner envelope.

 

“Don't you think you should tell Dean who your boyfriend is before you drag him to his wedding? I don't think either of us would fare well from that,” he said honestly.

 

“I guess,” Sam said, looking away as he dropped back onto the couch.

 

“You don't want to tell him. Why?”

 

“I don't know. I mean, I feel like with everything I know, he'd take it bad,” Sam replied, earning a skeptical look. “I know him, Cas, and you did, too. He can be jealous over the dumbest shit.”

 

“Because he'd be jealous when he's getting married?”

 

“He'd be upset that I seemingly took advantage.”

 

“Sam. I'm a grown man, and so is your brother. If he's stupid enough to think I'd just let you take advantage of me for over two years, he deserves to feel that way,” Cas said, sitting next to him, a hand squeezing Sam's knee. “Just tell him before you RSVP. If he gets upset, I don't have to go.”

 

“Cas, you're my boyfriend, and you're a part of our family. You deserve to go,” Sam defended, looking at him sympathetically.

 

“And part of me doesn't want to go, but Sam, I'll go if he's fine with it, and you want me to. It's his wedding day, and even if you're his brother, it's his choice,” Cas said, catching his gaze. “Even if I deserve to go, his comfort is what matters most on that day.”

 

“Yeah,” the Winchester said, leaning in for a kiss. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” the older man said, returning the kiss with a smile. “Go call him.”

 

He nudged him away with his knee, watching as the younger stood and headed off to the bedroom. Cas had found that Sam preferred to talk in private when he was on the phone. There were less distractions for him to lose focus on whatever point he was trying to make, and nothing to take away from giving his complete devotion to the person on the other line.

 

Even at a distance, Sam did everything he could to make the other person wasn't neglected. It made him smile as he relaxed on the couch, the invitation settled in his hands. The entire thing was simple, which was probably a choice of Dean's. He'd never cared for the elaborate or the overdone.

 

The edges of the invitation were curved, giving it a feel of softness against the starkness of the words, which were printed in a grass green and dark brown. The back of the card held a black and white image of Dean and Lisa, looking as happy as ever. He could hear Sam's voice from the bedroom, the stress in his voice clear as he spoke with Dean.

 

He heard his name finally mentioned, anxiety settling in his stomach like a rock. Silence settled on every room in the house, stripping them of comfort. Murmuring floated from the bedroom, urging Cas to get up off the couch, tossing the invitation back on the coffee table without care as he headed to his studio.

 

Grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil, he took his frustrations to the paper, sketching a shadow of a body, decorated with broken armor. Wings broke the humanity, spreading wide, black feathers falling out. The features of the face were anguish, rough and betrayed.

 

The angel was kneeling, his fears streaking his face as another being, his brother cast above him. As he started to sketch the second person, a knock at the frame of the door interrupted his thoughts.

 

“Cas?” Sam asked, looking at him. “How much did you hear?”

 

“Not a lot. Not specifics, but tone is enough to speak volumes,” he said, not taking his eyes off the paper as he let the pencil scratch details into Lucifer's armor, denting and breaking it.

 

“He took it better than I expected,” the Winchester said, taking a seat on the stool next to his boyfriend. “He was more pissed that I'd hid it for two and a half years.”

 

“Rightfully so, I'd imagine,” Cas replied as he focused on Michael's armor. “I'd be pissed if one of my siblings refused to let me meet who they were dating.”

 

“It's a little different here, Cas.”

 

“Why? Because I was with him before?” he asked, his voice a little angrier than he had meant when he turned to look at Sam. “That shouldn't make a different now, nearly twenty years later.”

 

Hurt displayed proudly on Sam's face, causing the younger to look away. Heaving a sigh, Cas let his hand reach across to grasp the side of his boyfriend's face, tilting his head to look back at him.

 

“I'm sorry. It's just... this is all irritating. It's sudden, it seems,” he said, breathing deeply. “It just further proves my place in his life.”

 

“Because you didn't get an invitation?”

 

“Not just that. He's on Facebook, and not a peep. Nothing, and it's not like we don't talk occasionally. It's frustrating to think one thing, but after so long of believing, finding out it's something else entirely.”

 

“Do you want to go to the wedding? He said that if you wanted to come, you were more than welcome. He thinks you wouldn't want to come because of well... y'know,” Sam said, his eyes flickering away for a moment.

 

“I don't know, Sam. I'll have to think about it,” he said, but he already knew his answer, and he knew Dean's was a lie. “I'm gunna stay in here for a bit. Do you want me to order something in to eat?”

 

“No, no. I can do it. Chinese alright?”

 

“Yeah, that's fine.”

 

They shared a quick kiss before Sam left him to his art, his hands returning to their dutiful work. By the time he heard the call of 'Dinner!', he'd finished the piece, and was simply adding detail to the background and their armors. Letting his pencil clatter against the table, he let his worries stay with the drawing, instead wanting to focus on what he did have.

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“You're positive?”

 

“Yes, Sam. I came here knowing I wasn't going to the wedding,” Cas said, smiling and giving him a kiss. “Seriously. I'll be fine. I grew up here, remember? It'll be nice to go around and see everything.”

 

“Okay,” Sam said, giving him another kiss, before rising and fixing his tie. “Just call me if you need anything, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” he said, knowing that he wouldn't. He watched as his boyfriend exited their hotel room, which Sam had insisted on, despite being offered housing at Dean's. He'd wanted them to not know that Cas had come with him, but opted to refrain from the wedding.

 

It made him a little sad that Cas hadn't wanted to share this moment with him, but having imagined what it'd be like to see all of your firsts with someone else was enough to make his own chest ache. His boyfriend had been through more than usual on top of that made it completely understood, no urge to try and reason with him.

 

Surprisingly, the ceremony and the reception went by quickly, and he was back at the hotel, tipsy and happy to be greeted by the older man. Cas chuckled at him as he fell back against the bed, his tie askew and his jacket tossed haphazardly on the floor.

 

“I assume you had a good time then,” Cas said, lying next to him with the hint of a smile on his face.

 

“Oh god, yes. It would've been so much better with you there, though, for real. Too many people I didn't know,” he said dramatically. “But god, Lisa looked stunning.”

 

“I can imagine. It's hard for her to not look beautiful.”

 

“No, but her dress was just perfect, Cas. It was a solid like a sweetheart neckline, with a lace covering up from the waist,” Sam said, earning a laugh from his boyfriend.

 

“The fact that you know what a sweetheart neckline is scares me,” he joked, turning his head to look at him. “I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.”

 

“I plan to enjoy myself more, now,” Sam said as he rolled onto his side, pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss. Cas responded eagerly, having missed having the Winchester elsewhere that day. A hand entangled itself in his hair as the brunette hover over him, allowing his body to crave him.

 

Sam pulled back, a smile playing at his lips as he gazed at him.

 

“How was your day?” he asked, but Cas replied silently, pulling him down completely, kissing him again. They fell between the sheets, air being the only thing between them for the rest of the night. It was enough to erase their thoughts of the events of earlier that day, both swallowed whole by the love they felt for one another.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's quite possible I might write a sequel to the sequel and this thing becomes a trilogy of angst and fluff and jeez. I just can't stop.

A few years had passed, and the quiet was all but so. Cas and Sam found themselves arguing more often than not, and discord was a part of their lives. Their last fight, however, would be ingrained in their memories for the years to come, making everything else seem surreal when thought of.

 

“You know, sometimes I don't even feel like I'm in a relationship with,” Cas said, his arms folded over his chest, one hip jutted to the side as he stood across the living room from his boyfriend.

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Cas?” Sam asked, his eyes rolling at the exaggeration.

 

“Really? You're going to act like Dean doesn't rule half your thoughts anymore? I know, because I know him, and I know you. Once he knew about us, and you started talking to him more after the wedding, your words became his words. Your thoughts became his and your actions were just shadows. Why would you let his opinion change anything you do with me?” he asked, his face swollen with confusion and sadness.

 

“Nothing has changed, Cas!” Sam practically shouted at him, throwing his hands up exasperatedly. “Where do you get off that things have changed?”

 

Cas looked away at that, laughing to himself as tears burned at his eyes and vision. Inhaling deeply, he let it go, willing himself to keep composed.

 

“We've been together for how long, Sam?”

 

“Six years, Cas. We've been together for six years, and these problems have only just surfaced,” the Winchester responded, taking a step forward. “Is it Dean? Are you still in—“

 

“Don't you fucking dare,” Cas threatened raising his finger to point at him. “Don't try to pin this on just me, because it takes two, Sam. I just happened to be the one that couldn't deal with it longest. Everything has changed. You spend more time talking to him than me. You practically live on your computer. What's my response to that? To spend time in my studio, drawing up tattoos to sell. I honestly think you're more invested in their marriage than he is.”

 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Sam asked, clearly offended by that.

 

“You! You are my problem, Sam Winchester! I don't know exactly when it fucking started, but the moment that 'we should just stay in' bullshit started spewing out of your mouth, I knew it was Dean talking and not you. You didn't care for the three and a half years before that, but somehow, Dean got it into your mind that, what? Being a faggot would ruin your career?”

 

“That is not what this is about!” Sam shouted at him, taking another step forward.

 

“Then please, tell me what it is about!” Cas returned as equally loud. “Clearly I don't understand!”

 

“I... It's just, I liked staying home with you,” Sam said, trying to play it off as the real reason.

 

“No. You liked being able to talk to your brother about everything, because now he was okay with you being in a relationship with his ex-fuck buddy. It was all out in the open, so everything was okay now. I liked you better in the closet. At least then, I was the only one who got to see who you really are,” Cas said, his nostrils flaring with rage. “But now that you're out and proud, you're a dick, and I can't fucking stand it.”

 

“So, what are you trying to say? You wanna break up?” Sam said, mostly being spiteful, but the answer he received nearly broke his heart.

 

“Yes. I'll help you pack your shit, but I want you out. I can't do this anymore. I am sick of being arm candy, I lived with it for too long before, and even then, I was hidden.

 

“Cas... You can't—“

 

“I damn well can. My name is the one that owns this place. I'll even help you find a new place, but I'm done, Sam,” he said, his face pulled tight with hidden grief.

 

Sam, on the other hand, couldn't mask his emotions, tears spilling freely as he turned silently and exited the apartment with haste. Cas took this moment to gather himself up, steeling his emotions and his expression as he headed into the bedroom to start putting Sam's things into bags to leave. It was better to get it over with now, than to wait and make it take longer. Over an hour later, he had finished with Sam's clothing, taking the time to take a break and send a message to Dean, via Facebook.

 

Seeing that the Winchester was online, while Sam was not, he smiled a little to himself as he typed up a lengthy message for the older brother.

 

'Whatever you hear from Sam, however biased it may be, will probably be right, because he was always a more logical person than you, but you had to put it into his mind that I was somehow corrupting our relationship with what, flaunting or some shit. I don't know what you said, or what you've done, but keep in mind you're the reason your brother is single and miserable right now.

 

Even now, while you're married and supposedly happy, you're still ruining my life. I appreciate your concerted effort to make sure I don't get the happy end you've got. If it's a consolation for you, I truly love the fact that your mind games wasted a decent amount of my money on an engagement ring. If you want to see your brother be happy again, because I know I would, don't tell him I was going to propose two years ago, but you deserve to know, because of the piece of shit brother you are.

 

Next relationship your brother gets into, make sure you keep your opinions to yourself, or he might ruin that one, too. Have a good night, Dean. Sleep easy.'

 

Pressing enter, he watched with satisfaction as moments later, the message was shown as seen, smiling to himself as he minimized the window, leaving his computer. He took his mind off the events of that night, having several drinks, getting happily drunk and watching stupid movies on Netflix.

 

The next day, Sam had come back to gather his things, short words being passed to dictate who owned what for him to take. The Winchester had tried to talk to him, to see if anything could be done or said, but Cas had brushed him off, no longer in the mood to try and repair the broken.

 

Months passed, and Sam found a new place. As far as Cas knew, he was single, and surprisingly, Dean and he had grown closer. Dean had replied maturely to his emotional hate later, which had slapped Cas into the realization that he had been a dick undeservedly. They had started talking more, and the Winchester had been far more reluctant to speak about his marriage with Lisa.

 

He'd talk about Ben all the time, telling him how the kid was doing, though Cas often found he had very little interest in that. Now that nearly 20 years had passed, it was nice to see how much Dean had matured. Now that he had accepted that he was bisexual, and could openly discuss the attractiveness of other men, their friendship grew strong.

 

Better yet, after about six months of having been broken up, Sam contacted him, wondering if the could talk, as friends. Cas had agreed, figuring there was very little harm in it. He had been wrong, finding all his old emotions being dredged up when he saw the younger Winchester. They had hit it off again, and within a week, Cas was the one suggesting they try again, on the grounds that neither of them discussed it with anyone else.

 

He had found it fairly easy to keep the two lives separate, though he did spend less time talking with Dean, as did Sam, which was a relief. It fell back into their old habits with ease, both of them finding the rhythm they'd had before. Both of them were happy again, and it didn't take long for Cas to invite the Winchester to live with him again.

 

All things, necessary and unnecessary, had been forgiven, thankfully on Cas' part. Sam had been a better man than he could've ever been, and he had been grateful for that fact. The guilt over things he'd said to Sam over the years was enough to weigh on him, even now. Looking up from his computer as his boyfriend entered the apartment.

 

“Hey,” he said, with a gentle smile, setting the laptop on the coffee table.

 

“Hey,” Sam said, returning the expression as he was greeted with a kiss and a hug.

 

“How was work?” Cas asked, scooting over on the couch to make room for the other.

 

The brunette took the seat happily, letting his arm drape over Cas' shoulders, pulling him close and kissing his temple.

 

“It was good. Mostly paperwork today. A couple of interviews with people to get more details on the biggest case we're working on, but other than that, a typical day. How about you? You're home early,” Sam said, his hand rubbing up and down Cas' arm soothingly.

 

“It was okay. I had one big piece that I started around two, took me four hours to do. By that time, I really don't have the time to start on a walk-in, and I had no appointments, so I just headed out for the day,” he said, smiling up at his boyfriend.

 

“Oh yeah? What was it?”

 

“This bionic piece that someone's doing as a half sleeve. I've got one more session to do on it. He's coming back in about a month to finish it up,” Cas said, resting his head against Sam's shoulder. “What's your week looking like next week? I was thinking of taking Friday off for a long weekend.”

 

“I could probably manage that,” Sam replied, inhaling deeply. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” the older man said, smiling widely to himself. “What do you want for dinner?”

 

“I have no earthly idea,” the Winchester said, earning a chuckle.”

 

“Take out?”

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

The following week went by quickly, wracking up Cas' anticipation for the long weekend. He typically had Saturdays off, because he didn't often do walk-ins, and this weekend was no exception. Friday morning came, and he was pleased when he rolled over in bed, his arm finding Sam's body still there. The Winchester reacted, shifting towards him, as Cas let his bleary gaze focus on him.

 

“Morning,” he said with a smile, greeted with the sight of sleepy hazel eyes.

 

“Mm, morning,” Sam said, before his lips were claimed in a kiss.

 

“So I figured to celebrate our long weekend, we could have dinner out tonight.”

 

“Mm, okay,” the younger said, before rolling onto his back, stretching out his body with a yawn. “Where?”

 

“It's a surprise.”

 

“Oh, like a date or something?” the other asked, grinning slightly before another yawn took over.

 

“Something like that,” Cas replied, chuckling lightly to himself. “You will need to dress up though. I don't deal with sloppy people on dates.”

 

“You act like I'll be dressed in sweats and a t-shirt,” Sam replied, laughing lightly.

 

“You never know,” he said, grinning over at him.

 

“Fortunately for you, I do know,” the younger replied, rolling onto his side to face his boyfriend. “How'd you sleep?”

 

“Good,” Cas said, turning parallel to him. “You?”

 

“Wonderful,” he murmured leaning forward for a slow, languid kiss. This was something Cas always missed. These slow intimate mornings, where they could lounge in bed, just being together and talking, tangled in themselves and the sheets.

 

“Mm, good,” Cas purred, his hands ensnared in Sam's hair. Another lazy kiss captured their lips, taking their breath and drowning their words. They spent a majority of their morning connected by their lips, hand aimlessly wandering chests and shoulders.

 

In the early afternoon, the rose from the bed, deciding they were hungry enough to get up. Working together, they prepared their lunch, eating in relative silence afterward. Then they lazed about on the couch, Netflix playing mindlessly in the background. It was an all around lazy day for them until they started getting ready to go out.

 

They showered separately, for comfort's sake, Sam going first. Cas claimed he took longer to get ready. About an hour and a half later, they were ready to go, the older man offering to drive them. The Winchester obliged, simply because he loved taking a ride in the Corvette.

 

Twenty minutes later, they were pulling up to a local Italian restaurant, Sam arching a curious eyebrow. Not only had he been told to dress extra nicely, but now they were at one of the better restaurants in Portland.

 

“Cas?” he asked as they climbed out the car, and he only received a smirk in response. Heaving a sigh, he simply followed his boyfriend, looking around at the empty parking lot. It said a lot about what this night was going to be filled with, and he suddenly wondered if it was _that_ kind of night. There was no way, despite their history, that Cas would propose to him after six months.

 

Swallowing his doubt, he was escorted through the doors, his boyfriend following him as they were greeted. The restaurant was empty, giving him an odd feeling like they weren't supposed to be there. Seated in the middle of the room, they were left alone, gentle orchestral music floating around them.

 

“I know what you must be thinking,” Cas said, chuckling lightly as he observed Sam's expression.

 

“What's that?”

 

“Knowing you, you're probably thinking that I'm going to propose, or something along those lines, right?” he said, grinning. Sam nodded at that, still amazed at how well Cas could read him, and knew him.

 

“You don't need to worry,” the older man said, stealing a laugh from Sam.

 

“Why would I worry about that? That makes it sound like I'd be upset if you proposed,” he said, grinning slyly.

 

“Would you?”

 

“Are you asking?”

 

“Asking what?” Cas asked, a mischievous smile lightening his face.

 

“Sometimes you are just impossible,” Sam said, his laughter dancing around them like fairies.

 

“That's what makes me loveable,” the older man responded, snickering lightly. A waiter interrupted their banter, asking for their drink order. After hearing a couple of wine recommendations, they decided on a white wine, and they were left to their devices.

 

“So what are we doing at a restaurant, all alone?” Sam asked, leaning forward, a sly grin playing with his lips. Hazel eyes twinkled with curiosity as his hands folded over themselves beneath his chin.

 

“I figured a peaceful night was in order. Something where we were out, but there was nothing to bother us, nothing to distract us from each other,” he said, returning the smile.

 

“Well, I appreciate it. It's nice. Odd to have no murmur of a crowd, but nice,” Sam said, practically humming with happiness. The wine was soon brought to them and poured. They were then asked if they were ready to order, and that was when they'd realized they hadn't even looked at the menu. The waiter smiled and said he'd be back, leaving them alone again. They poured through the menu, looking for something they'd like and it didn't take them long to settle.

 

Their waiter returned almost as immediately as they put down their menus, ready to take their orders. Once everything was confirmed for them, he departed, silence drifting over them like a flurry of snow.

 

“I sometimes marvel at how excellent a liar I am,” Cas said after a few moments, his hands fiddling with something beneath the table. Sam's brow furrowed, confusion leaking from his entire body as panic rose in his chest.

 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, worry evident in his tone. A small black box stopped time as it slid across the tablecloth. He couldn't even tell that he was breathing as he stared at it Swallowing thickly, time seemed to fall back into its normal pace as he looked up at Cas.

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“I would hope so. People who propose in jest are shitty people,” Cas said with a wide smile. “I'm not really into the whole traditional 'down on one knee' part, so...”

 

He flipped the box open, revealing a white gold band with a channel of eight brilliant and sparkling diamonds. Hazel eyes shimmered with emotion as he stared at the ring, fingers suddenly encasing it and pulling it free from the velveteen inside.

 

“Sam Winchester, we have been through a lot, somethings bad, somethings great. There was a time before you where I felt I would never have the happiness I had once thought I deserved, and you showed me otherwise. Eight years ago, when I messaged you on Facebook, I really was looking for something else, something unrealistic.

 

“I love you. I've loved you since the first time I saw you in Starbucks all those years ago, and I only hoped that you'd feel the same. Then you came to me when I needed you most and you were the best support I could have ever asked for. All I ask from you now is that you let me return everything you've given me.

 

“I want to love you endlessly, and I want to give you everything you deserve, because you deserve to have someone drop everything for you. I want to be that person, so don't think this is completely selfless, because it's not. I want you to be mine, and mine only. To spend the rest of your life with me, and to wake up next to me every morning.

 

“So I ask you, Sam Winchester, will you do me the absolutely honor of being my husband? Will you marry me?”

 

Sam's breath had hitched halfway through Cas' speech, tears welling forcefully in his eyes. Despite the will to not cry, it happened, his body coursing with emotion that shook every muscle in his body. A sob nearly escaped his mouth, choked, as he nodded.

 

“Yes,” he whispered, unable to raise his voice any higher as Cas' smile shined as bright as the ring. His hand was captured in his now-fiance's, and the cool metal slid over his flesh, sending chills down his arm and spine.

 

His laughed as tears slid down his face, looking at the ring that now shone brilliantly from his hand.

 

“Oh my god, sometimes I hate you,” he said, wiping his face. “I knew it!”

 

Cas laughed at that, his entire body radiating with joy. Their food made an announcement as their waiter was followed by two others. They were congratulated by all three of them once their food was set in front of them, and then they were alone again.

 

“Oh lord, I can't wait to tell Dean. He'll shit,” Sam said, grinning as he looked down at his food.

 

“Actually, I was wondering if I could tell him,” Cas asked, looking up from his plate. “We've grown closer over the past year, and well, neither of us has told him we're back together, so I think I might be a little... gentler in telling him. You're over eager.”

 

“True. Yeah, that might be best,” the Winchester said with a laugh. “Oh my god, I can't believe it.”

 

Cas chuckled at that, still beaming at his fiance.

 

“Eat your dinner so we can go home,” he said, other ideas in his head. They scarfed down their dinner, the food disappearing in record time and the bill was brought to them. Cas paid for it, and they left the restaurant after thanking the entire staff that was there that night. They made it home within 20 minutes. Kisses were trailed down the hallway to the front door, and it was thrust open wildly, a back being pressed up against the wall as passion took control.

 

“Mmm, we should tell them tonight,” Cas murmured. “Or we'll forget to not thrust it on them.”

 

“There's more important things,” Sam said as he nipped at Cas' neck. “Come on, it can wait.”

 

“Sam, please,” he said, running his fingers through his fiance's hair. “It'll take five minutes.”

 

A grumble greeted him as he was freed from the cage of Sam's body.

 

“It better take five minutes,” Sam said as he sauntered off towards the bedroom. “I'll be waiting~.”

 

Cas chuckled as he plopped down on the couch, pulling up Facebook. Dean was online, and his heart pounded wildly as he pulled up a chat window.

 

Cas: 'Hey!'

 

Dean: 'Hey. How're you?'

 

Cas: 'Great! I've actually got some news!'

 

Dean: 'Yeah? Me, too.'

 

Cas: 'You first! It's probably more exciting.'

 

Dean: 'I doubt that. Uh... I haven't told anyone yet.'

 

Dean: 'Lisa and I got divorced.'

 

Cas: 'What?! When? Jesus, what happened?!'

 

Dean: 'You. Not that I'm blaming you, it's my fault. I just... I realized I never got over you.'

 

Cas: 'I... Dean.'

 

Dean: 'I know this is a lot, and weird for me to say, especially since you had been dating my brother, but I felt you just needed to know.'

 

Cas: 'About that. Sam and I... we got back together about six months ago.'

 

Dean: '...Oh.'

 

Cas: 'I asked him to marry me. He said yes.'

 

Dean: 'I see. When did this happen?'

 

Cas: 'Tonight. He wanted to tell you, but I felt he might be overzealous about it. I'm sorry, Dean.'

 

Dean: 'No. Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for, Cas. It's my fault. I should've told you months ago that Lisa and I were divorcing. I should go.'

 

Cas: 'Dean...'

 

The man suddenly signed off, and his heart ached at that. Tears tugged at the corners of his eyes, but he willed himself to push it aside once he entered the bedroom, finding a fully nude Sam splayed across the sheets.

 

“A little birdy told me you wanted to love me endlessly,” the Winchester said, grinning slyly as he propped himself up on his elbows.

 

“Mm, that's right,” Cas said, grinning as well as he slid out of his clothes with ease, crawling up onto the bed for the second best night of his life. The best would be when he said 'I do' to Sam.

 


End file.
